Who's Laughing Now
by threeredcardinals
Summary: Laura leaves Derek in charge of her daycare for a week, and he's got eight toddlers—werewolves and non—driving him crazy, not to mention the beautiful boy that just walked through the door. AU.


It's nine o'clock in the morning, and Derek is already exhausted.

Boyd and Jackson are fighting over a toy dump truck, Erica is attempting to climb on top of the toy chest, and Derek's just rescued Isaac from Scott _again_, because Scott is determined to cover the other toddler in stickers-where in the world did he get those?-if it's the last thing he does. Derek's only consolation is that, for the time being, Lydia, Danny, and Allison are playing quietly at the craft table, Danny being freakishly neat for a four year-old that's just discovered glitter glue, and Allison and Lydia making something out of purple Playdoh.

Derek wasn't really sure how he got stuck running Laura's daycare for a _week_ while she galavanted off to Las Vegas with a couple of friends-probably something to do with her practically tackling him and batting her eyelashes and sticking out her lower lip and saying '_You're the best baby brother in the world and it's only for a week and you know how long I've wanted to do this and the only other time that worked was during the full moon and I love you so, so much, I promise I'll make it up to you'-_but here he was.

For a daycare with eight kids and two employees, Luna's-which was what Laura had taken to calling her little business ('_get it, Derek, Luna means moon, and we're werewolves')_-was doing swimmingly well. Laura was able to afford a nice apartment near the main part of town and pay the rent for the building that she used as the daycare center, as well as give the kid that worked with her a decent salary.

The kid that hadn't even shown up yet, Derek though sullenly, snatching a panicked Isaac from Scott once more. Scott pouted up at him, the sheet of stickers clutched tightly in his little fist.

Derek goes to return the toddler's glare with one of his one when there's a high-pitched shriek from Allison. He nearly gets whiplash from how fast he turns his head, just in time to see Jackson-who apparently had tired of trying to steal the dump truck from Boyd-squish Lydia and Allison's creation into the table.

"Jackson!" Derek says sharply, but before he can scold him, Lydia takes matters into her own hands and promptly whacks Jackson in the head with the Playdoh can, the remaining purple goo flying out and hitting the wall. Scott scrambles to Allison, who's still crying, and gingerly pats her on the head.

Danny starts crying when Jackson snatches the glitter glue from his hands, attempting to squirt it at Lydia. She dodges it nimbly and it instead hits Scott, who retaliates by leaping over the table and knocking Jackson to the ground.

Derek realizes he hasn't moved in the last thirty seconds, frozen to the ground, when Isaac begins squirming in his arms, trying to get free. Derek places Isaac down-behind him, placing himself between the curly-haired boy and the impending war zone-and darts over to the table, trying to break up what was now a full-scale battle.

Jackson and Scott are still going at it, snarling and growling and rolling around. They're both as wolfed out as toddlers can get, their eyes glowing gold and tiny little teeth and claws sprouting from their gums and fingertips. Scott's baby talons are digging into the table for Jackson has managed to get ahold of his leg, trying to drag him away, while Lydia is alternately beating them over their heads with her plastic can, Playdoh flying everywhere. Scott scrabbles at the table, making scratches in the laminate surface, and Derek gets there just in time to get a faceful of sparkles as one of his little claws snags a glitter glue tube, causing it to burst.

Derek lets out a growl and wraps either arm around Scott and Jackson, yanking them apart. Lydia looks up at him, wide-eyed, and thankfully, Boyd and Isaac are still standing off to the side, looking with big eyes at Scott and Jackson, who have since given up fighting and are hanging like rag dolls in Derek's arms. Allison's still crying, but Danny's got his arms wrapped around her, glaring at the troublemakers like a worried mother hen. Erica's just sitting on her toy chest, cackling hysterically.

Boyd takes a tentative step forward and sticks his finger in the Playdoh and glitter concoction, and Derek moves-he really doesn't need any more of a mess to clean up, really-and shepherds them into the next room, thinking twice about leaving Jackson and Scott together and decides to keep Scott with him.

Derek manages to keep Scott hanging on one arm and scrub the sparkles off of his face at the same time-hello, multitasking-and he's just throwing away the paper towel he used when the bell above the main entrance jingles, announcing the delayed arrival of Derek's supposed helper.

Derek turns around, a snappy remark about being on time a split second from leaving his mouth, then stops dead at the boy standing in the door. The boy gives Derek a loose smile as he slings his bag to the floor.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, my Jeep was having trouble this morning."

Derek opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out, so he closes it again. The boy is-he's _pretty._ He's younger than Derek, but not by much, all gorgeous brown eyes and rosy cheeks and full lips, and then Derek's mesmerized because that mouth looks even better when it's moving.

"I'm Stiles, by the way. You must Laura's brother-Derek, right?" Stiles sticks out a hand for Derek to shake, and Derek goes to meet him halfway, realizing at the last second that he's still covered in purple goo and sparkles, and he hesitates.

Stiles glances down at Derek's palm and lets out the loveliest laugh Derek's ever heard.

"Oh, wow, they're wreaking havoc already?" Stiles seems to take in the mess of the playroom for the first time, and that snaps Derek out of his stupor, because he's standing in what probably looks like the Playdoh apocalypse and he's got a _baby werewolf _slung over one arm, and he's not entirely sure how he's going to be able to talk himself out of this one.

Scott wriggles out of Derek's grasp and drops to the floor, scurrying over to Stiles and wrapping himself around his leg before Derek can stop him, Scott's little fangs and minuscule claws still out.

"He, uh, really likes Halloween, so he wears those _plastic_ teeth all, uh, year. . ." It's a weak explanation even to Derek's ears, and it's probably a good thing Stiles isn't really paying attention.

"Hey, buddy, we've talked about this-careful with the claws, okay, ouch-" Stiles manages to extract Scott's needle-like fingertips from his jeans and lifts the kid so he's resting on Stiles' hip. Stiles grins up at Derek. "And no need to explain, man, I cornered Laura and made her 'fess up a while ago." Stiles tickles Scott's tummy and the little wolf giggles, his canines melting back into blunt, human teeth and his claws retracting. "I mean, you can only convince yourself you're imagining the glowing eyes and sharp teeth so many times before you start getting suspicious."

Derek's stunned. "So you know-"

"-that half these kids and your sister have a furry little problem once a month? Yeah." Stiles sets Scott back down and the three year-old dashes off into the other room, where the rest of the toddlers are no doubt already making a new mess.

"And you're a werewolf too, right?" Stiles asks conversationally, as if they're discussing jobs or the weather.

Derek's caught off guard, but recovers. "Yes." He rubs the back of his neck, then thinks better of it.

Stiles looks around the room again, assessing the disaster zone. "Alright, how about I go put in that Wonder Pets DVD to keep them occupied for a bit, and then we can get started on-" Stiles waves his hands to encompass everything coated in glitter and purple. "-this?"

Derek nods, allowing a flicker of relief that he's not going to be scraping Playdoh off of the ceiling by himself.

It's ten minutes later, when Stiles reaches up to unstick a glob of hardened glitter glue off of the wall, his shirt riding up and exposing a peek of fair skin across his hip and stomach, that Derek feels a flicker of something else.

~x~

Stiles is talkative and sweet and funny. Over the week they work together, Derek picks up bits and pieces that Stiles leaves, a bit like Hansel and Gretel and their crumb trail, only Derek treasures every tidbit he finds: Stiles likes pickles-he brings them everyday in his lunch and always shares with Danny-and he's a people person, planning on going to college to study psychology and get a degree in the social sciences, wanting to become some sort of a therapist.

"My dad always says I talk to much," Stiles laughs, his smile reaching his beautiful eyes. "So I figured I might as well get paid for it."

Derek could listen to him speak all day.

Yes, Stiles is colorful and flamboyant and has a laugh filled with music notes, and Derek tries to tell himself, the logical, reasonable part of himself, that a week isn't very much time. A week is not nearly long enough to grow so attached to someone it hurts to see them walk out of the door in the evenings after the toddlers are gone, even if Stiles does look back over his shoulder and wave. A week isn't long enough to get so caught up in someone that Derek couldn't untangle himself, even if he wanted to.

Apparently, his inner wolf disagrees.

Derek is quiet and subdued and isn't good with words. He's tedious and jumpy and has trust issues, and Derek has resigned himself to accepting that no one could ever love someone as dull as he is. The only interesting thing about himself was the fact that he was a werewolf-and he couldn't exactly go around telling people that and expect to not be thrown into a padded room wearing a straightjacket.

But around Stiles, Derek feels himself come out of his shell. He chuckles at Stiles' comments and he doesn't wear black everyday, which is a big deal, and he even attempts a joke or two that would make Laura, if she was there, ridicule him until the day he dies.

When Laura does return, it's late Friday afternoon, right before the kids' mothers are scheduled to pick them up. Stiles has managed to distract them all with a storybook-Little Red Riding Hood, go figure-and has all eight of them piled around him in disarray, chins resting on hands or on Stiles or laying on one another. Erica snuggles into Stiles' side, and Stiles runs an absentminded hand through her blonde curls as he reads, and something about the whole scene makes Derek's stomach churn in the best way possible. He's propped himself up on a kiddie stool that's much too small for him, and he's paying attention to the story just as much as the toddlers are, so he doesn't notice Laura until she plops down on a stool beside him.

She glances at him, takes in the faint smile on his face, follows his line of sight, and rocks back, a smug look on her face.

Derek glances at her distractedly, his eyes seemingly not willing to leave Stiles' unfairly tight t-shirt. "What?"

"Did you have a good week?" Laura asks casually, reaching over to tousle his hair.

Derek bats her hand away and sets all four of his stool's legs on the ground. "Yeah, it was great. How about you?"

"Oh, it was amazing. The lights, the casinos, the _guys_-"

Derek grimaces. "I don't want to hear about _that_."

"It doesn't look like you were exactly complaining this week, either." Laura lifts an eyebrow mischievously.

Derek's eyes snap to his sister's face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Since when have you?" Laura sighs, her eyes drifting to Stiles and the kids, who are still enraptured by the story. "He's a good guy."

Derek doesn't bother to ask who she's talking about, doesn't bother to play dumb. "Yeah."

Laura studies him for a moment, then stands. "I think you should."

"Should what?"

But Laura's already walking away, her silence answer enough.

~x~

Laura doesn't stay silent for long, however.

When Derek finally works up the courage to ask Stiles out, Stiles is driving away-and when he runs after the Jeep, all he can hear is her laughing at him. Derek's words are clumsy and stuttering and then Stiles reaches through the open window and pulls Derek down to kiss him, all sweet mouth and soft tongue and tasting like cinnamon, and once Derek can manage coherent thought again, Laura's laughter is replaced by Stiles'.

When Stiles decides to bake Derek a cake for their six-month anniversary, he digs into it with all the gusto his wolf can manage, effectively covering himself in pale pink icing. Laura wanders into the kitchen, takes one look at her normally-stoic brother, and collapses in a fit of giggles. She stops abruptly, however, when Stiles takes it upon himself to help Derek, uh, _remove _the excess icing from himself. She excuses herself rather hurriedly from the kitchen and doesn't return.

Derek doesn't mind.

Laura doesn't laugh when they announce their engagement, and she cries at their wedding, only managing a watery chuckle when Lydia and Danny gang up on Jackson and try to shove flower petals down his miniature suit. She's also crying when they adopt their baby girl, Thea Marie.

Derek loves his sister, he really does-in fact, she's kind of the reason he met Stiles in the first place. But he no longer needs her mocking laughter, her real giggles, her sardonic chuckles. He needs Stiles, his glowing smile and the way he seems to radiate everything Derek needs to be happy.

So when Laura complains about walking in on them kissing, again-_'Really guys? Really? This is a daycare, not the back of a freaking movie theater'-_Derek just smirks and pulls his mate closer, laughs when he hears the chorus of 'eww' from the row of toddlers peeking around the door.

Who's laughing now?


End file.
